


Lollipop

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Three years after the events in "Moments." (06/08/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: In answer for Dragoncait's plot bunny about Hoshi, Malcolm and a big lollipop.  
  
Beta: PJ the wonderful.  


* * *

There was a rare consensus on the way back to Enterprise.

Trip ticked off the points. "So, worst food, worst decor, worst after-dinner entertainmentâ€”folks, I think we have a winner!"

"I fail to see what was objectionable about the food," T'Pol said.

Honestly, those two were as predictable as the temperature of Chef's coffee. Malcolm looked at me and silently counted off the seconds until Trip's response. Twoâ€”oneâ€”andâ€”"The vegetables squealed! As you ate `em! That ain't natural!"

Yep, right on schedule.

"Then you should have eaten the starch product..."

Oh, yes. Predictability at its best. Those two were so dull it made you sleepy just listening to them.

Dull, however, was not how I'd describe Malcolm and me. Everyone thought we were predictable, especially after three years. Showed you how little people knew.

I admit, he was restrained in his behaviour outside our quarters. He had nightmares about Trip finding us in odd places for months back in '52. But in our quarters, or on shore leave...well, Mom always said it was the quiet ones you had to watch. And Malcolm could be very, very quiet.

The Captain was handing around the emergency rations. We'd learned after the disastrous dinner with the Lvivrarii followed by a two-hour shuttle flight home. That's when we came up with the 'Rate The Dinner' scheme to pass the time. It helped not only with the dull flight but it covered the sound of our rumbling  
stomachs as well.

And the next away dinner the Captain arranged for chef to pack an emergency hamper just in case.

The emergency hamper had quite a workout over the next few years. There was the banquet the Uffyd held for us where the food smelt like Porthos after he'd rolled in that dead animal on Cralinik; the food on Hothma that had no smell or texture and was almost worse; the blue meat on Etwagil that dyed our teeth for days; and who could forget the Klingon banquet when we had to kill our food before we could eat it?

Actually Malcolm rather enjoyed the Klingon banquet. A little too much, if you ask me.

Trip and T'Pol bickered all through chef's salad sandwiches. There was something different in its tone now, though. The words were the same but it was as if the context had changed.

I don't know what happened to them last month on that planet. They were out of com range for days and rumours were flying. I asked Malcolm but he said it was a security matter. Which was his way of telling me that something very interesting had happened but he couldn't tell me. If nothing had happened he would have said so.

I do like knowing him so well.

We'd finished our sandwiches and Trip and T'Pol were still arguing. Travis let the Captain fly while he ate his sandwich. Wouldn't do to get salad all over the controls. Malcolm dug around in the hamper for dessert.

Ah, apples.

It was nice being within range of Earth cargo vessels again. With only a year to go before we were home, we had a resupply six weeks ago. All those wonderful foods you didn't know you'd missed until you ate them again. Apples, real coffee, proper wasabe...

Malcolm moved to let Travis back to his seat. Did I mention, by the way, how absolutely scrumptious Malcolm looked in his dress uniform? It always had this effect on me. Probably why Malcolm was eating his way steadily through two sandwiches and two apples. He knew he would need the strength later tonight.

"Great to have apples again, Travis," he said through a mouthful. "Could eat them all day."

Then again, maybe he just liked eating apples.

Travis, of course, then embarked on a story of what foods were on short supply on his parents' ship. Well, after three years, close knowledge of one's colleagues is a given. And Malcolm does so love setting them up to do the predictable things. You'd never guess that behind his formidable reserve Malcolm Reed is a terrific tease.

So, having set things up to his advantage, Malcolm sat back and enjoyed the last of his apple without having to talk.

Shameless.

Then Travis interrupted the flow of part 478 of 'When I was a boomer' to tell me that there were some chocosticks at the bottom of the hamper.

Well, why didn't he tell me? I nearly squashed those two in the effort to get my share.

Yummy, chocosticks. They were put on the market while we were away. Tasted like chocolate, melted like chocolate, felt like chocolate, but wasn't. No fat, no kilojoules. Just one big lollipop of chocolate on a stick.

Earth had obviously reached the pinnacle of civilisation.

So I sat back, eyes shut, to fully enjoy the pinnacle of earth's civilisation. Oh, bliss, as that big lump started to dissolve in my mouth...

Funny, what was that odd choking sound?

Never mind, have another lick of -

There it was again. I reluctantly opened my eyes.

Malcolm's gaze was fixed on my mouth and my lollipop as if it was the most desirable thing in the world.

Well, he wasn't going to have it. It was my lollipop and I was going to enjoy it. Defiantly I gave it another lick.

His eyes glazed over. He was getting red in the face. He wasâ€”oh.

So _that_ was the matter with him! Well, it was late and I was tired or I would definitely have picked it up earlier.

But now I knew what was going on, this was going to be fun.

Another long lick around the top of the chocostick, then all in the mouth, andâ€”ooh, he's starting to sweat.

"Is it just me or is it starting to get warm in here?" He tried to sound nonchalant as he took his jacket off and oh-so-casually draped it across his lap. He might have gotten away with it if his voice hadn't squeaked.

Fortunately no-one took any notice.

Back to torturing Malcolm. This was such fun. Exceptâ€”blech! Travis was drooling at me as well!

I glared at Travis. Malcolm, poor sweetie, was a little startled until his brain kicked in again, then he turned to see what I was glaring at.

One narrow-eyed glare from Malcolm and Travis, a beaten and cowed man, decided to go talk to the Captain.

Good boy. I do so like it when Malcolm goes all caveman and jealous. Gives me a big shiver down my primitive little spine.

We sat and looked at each other. We may have had soppy grins on our faces, but who cares. After three years and still to feel like this...

Now, where was I?

Five minutes later we were back on Enterprise and Malcolm was looking very flushed. He'd not only draped his jacket more effectively over his lap, he'd had to clutch onto the safety rail as well. I think it was to stop himself from leaping on me.

I was a very happy little Hoshi.

Now, how to get back to our quarters without anyone noticing? Oh dear, I hadn't thought that far.

Malcolm, of course, had retained just enough higher brain function to plan ahead. That's the boy I know and love.

"Captain, the deflector sounded just a little off. With your permission I'll stay and have a look at it."

The Captain glanced at the two of us. Malcolm flushed and sitting very oddly, me innocently licking at the chocostick. He smiled. "Permission granted."

The thought that perhaps we were as transparent to our fellow bridge officers as they were to us briefly crossed my mind. But then the others left the shuttle, and the Captain shut the hatchâ€”uh oh, he does knowâ€”and a voice whispered hot in my ear. "Now, what'll we do with you, Hoshi my love?"

Malcolm doesn't need a lollipop to seduce me. Just hearing his voice and I'm whimpering on the floor, helpless to resist.

Which was exactly what happened not thirty seconds later.

Memo to self: must lay in big supply of chocosticks. A very big supply.

* * *

Of course, two days later Porthos found a discarded chocostick under the spare seat in the shuttle. Of course, he ate it and was sick for days after. And of course, the Captain grumped around sickbay and we all avoided him until Porthos was better.

As I said, after three years you certainly get to know your fellow crew-mates.


End file.
